


Beneath me

by RikkuRiddle



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: M/M, but only because we don't hear tseng's thoughts yet, rufus is a bit of an asshole but a hot one, some sexual content up til now, somewhat one-sided attraction, this one-shot collection is def still on-going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RikkuRiddle/pseuds/RikkuRiddle
Summary: A harmless infatuation was nothing to worry about, was it?On-going series of self-contained oneshots that will have continuity time- and plot-wise.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 17
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Had to get this little one-shot out of my system. Why is everyone so bloody attractive in the Remake? xD
> 
> The title has different meanings, which should become obvious during the course of the story. 
> 
> I might possibly add some more "one-shots" to this story but that will depend on whether I need a break from my Cloud/Leslie story or not. 
> 
> Writing Rufus' POV was quite fun, still can't believe how fucking flirty he was in the Remake. xD I could hardly concentrate during the fight with Cloud. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! :)

Rufus blamed what he was doing on being cooped up for months here in Costa del Sol. Not that he needed an excuse, of course, he could do what he wanted. He was Rufus Shinra heir the most powerful cooperation on the planet after all. And soon to be president if he had anything to say about it. 

Still, watching Tseng shower felt a little odd. 

But did that stop him? 

No. 

Tseng had arrived at the seaside resort a few days ago, no doubt on his father’s orders to spy on him. Like there weren’t already enough of his father’s little lapdogs swarming the place. 

Why his father had sent Tseng of all people was beyond him though. Sure, he was the leader of the Turks now that Veld was dead, and presumably very capable, but him overturning his father’s order of executing all the Turks, and thereby saving Tseng’s life among others, after the disaster a year ago, was what had landed him in house arrest on Costa del Sol in the first place. So why would Tseng rat him out to the man who’d ordered his death?

Ah well, his father had never been the sharpest tool in the shed. 

Leaning against the doorframe with folded arms, Rufus smirked slightly. 

The Turk was well built, lean and tall and subtly muscled. 

That long hair though. Long hair on men made no sense to Rufus. He'd never understood it with Sephiroth either. Women looked good with long hair and they had the time to waste on its upkeep. But men like Sephiroth and Tseng should have better things to do, surely.

Though he couldn’t quite deny that Tseng's long hair suited him. He’d worn it tied up until about a year ago. What had caused the change in style, he didn’t know.

Tseng had his back turned to Rufus, the long black hair trailing down his back, ending just above his lower back. Rufus hadn’t realised the Turk had such a nice ass. 

He couldn’t say he was particularly partial to men but rather that he didn’t care much either way. The most people he was exposed to fawned over him because of his wealth and its potential future growth. His looks certainly didn’t hurt either. But there was only so long he could abide people kissing his ass, even if it was hard to believe. Naturally, he’d rather listen to those spineless sycophants complimenting him than talking about themselves, like he cared, but the saying ‘flattery will get you anywhere’ didn’t apply to him. 

Tseng was quite attractive even if he was just an employee and therefore something close to property. At least he was the leader of the Turks. Not that that would excuse Rufus getting involved with someone of such low social standing. Even if it would just be a one-off. Unlike his father, who wasn’t beneath sleeping with a secretary, Rufus held himself to higher standards. 

It wouldn’t even matter if Tseng was interested, with Rufus' position he could simply force the Turk to do his bidding. Other people would no doubt resort to such methods but to Rufus the thought was beyond distasteful. Thankfully he was rather persuasive and so could get what he wanted without coercion easily. When it came to matters regarding the bedroom that was, in other areas he didn’t mind a bit of intimidation and coercion. 

His estimate, however, was that Tseng was much too proper for any inconsequential dalliances. 

And why exactly was he thinking about this? Hadn’t he just reasoned himself out of getting involved with the Turk simply due to his low social standing? It was definitely too early in the morning. 

He wondered what would happen if Tseng was to turn around. Rufus certainly wouldn’t hide or excuse his behaviour. But would Tseng even be fazed? If he was, he probably wouldn’t show it. What would he do anyway? Reprimand the son of his employer? 

Rufus nearly snorted at the thought. 

For a moment, he considered stepping into the bathroom and announcing his presence but much like Tseng accidentally turning around, Rufus couldn’t see it leading anywhere. 

Because he didn’t go for employees, no matter how easy it would be, he reminded himself. 

Rufus watched Tseng running his hands through his hair, rinsing the last bit of conditioner out. 

With morbid curiosity, Rufus suddenly found himself wondering if Tseng would jerk off in the shower. 

Unfortunately, he didn’t. 

Turning the water off, Tseng stepped out of the shower, his back still turned to Rufus. He grabbed a towel and slowly started to dry himself off, pulling his hair over one shoulder and wringing the water out carefully. Rufus watched the muscles move in Tseng’s back. 

When the towel around Tseng’s hips slipped a second time, Rufus raised his eyebrows in amused surprise at the Turk cursing under his breath.

After that, he quietly pulled the door to the bathroom closed and returned to the terrace, looking out across the ocean glittering in the sunlight. It was only an hour past sunrise and he had no idea what had woken him up this early. He was usually not one to rise at such a time. 

Tseng seemed as surprised as Rufus was when he arrived on the terrace about half an hour later. Not that much of it showed on the Turk's face. 

“Good morning, sir.”

While Rufus had stood on the terrace watching the ships arrive at and depart from the harbour, an attendant had brought him coffee. He never ate much in the morning if he happened to be up at such an ungodly hour.  


Tilting his face up, Rufus looked at the clear blue sky, not a cloud in sight. Much like the past few months. He’d even gotten a bit of a tan, somewhat against his will. 

“How can a morning be good, when you’re up this early?”

“Sir?”

Rufus shook his head. “Nevermind.” Pushing past Tseng, he said, “I’ll be in the shower.” 

Unlike Tseng, Rufus would jerk off when he took a shower.

He naturally had a separate bathroom. Just the thought of sharing with an employee was beyond comprehension. Unless Tseng would be in the shower with him, he thought, while rolling his eyes at himself. This house arrest was driving him around the bend. 

He was tempted to escape if only to annoy his father further. But once his involvement with Avalanche had been exposed, he knew he’d pushed his father as far as it would go. 

Why wouldn’t that old bastard die already? 

Stripping his shorts off, he left them on the floor for one of his maids to pick up later. 

The villa was equipped with every last bit of technology and luxury money could buy but even with the most exclusive air conditioning, Rufus couldn’t stand sleeping in much more than his underwear or preferably naked. 

The walk-in shower was big enough for ten, so barely big enough for him. Maybe he should make an exception today and start drinking before noon. What else was there to do? 

He could just imagine Tseng’s disapproving frown that the Turk would try hard to hide but not quite manage. Invariably, Tseng would stand about the place with an impassive face but Rufus hadn’t grown up around people lying their asses off for all they were worth (never much), without picking up on subtle tells or nervous ticks. 

Rufus was surprised by how much watching the Turk shower had aroused him. 

The cool stream of water was a nice change to the stifling heat on the terrace. Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and let the water wash over him for several minutes as his hand strayed downwards.

His thoughts turned to the idea of what it would feel like to fuck Tseng, bending him over on hands and knees before him with the Turk begging for more. With his newfound knowledge of what Tseng’s ass looked like, this image was very vivid indeed. 

Rufus bit back a groan, fingers curling around his cock. 

How the Turk's cool demeanour would shatter and what he'd sound like with his voice rough and breathless, the pristine uniform scattered on the floor. 

Left hand pressed against the cold tiles and arm stretched out, Rufus bowed his head, breathing growing strained and his legs beginning to tremble slightly as the heat curled low in his stomach. This would be over a lot quicker than he’d anticipated. 

But with his thoughts all over the place, imagining pulling Tseng’s head back by the long hair and leaning in to bite his neck, pushing in deeper to the sound of the Turk’s moans, it was no wonder that he had trouble reigning himself in or even slowing down some. 

Rufus' breath came in harsh, sharp gasps, his hand moving more urgently now that he was so close. 

At the back of his mind, he couldn’t help contemplating a reverse scenario from this morning and what would happen if Tseng came into the bathroom now. He knew, he’d kiss the Turk, at the very least, employee or no, social standing be damned. 

The images in his mind turned into a mix of Tseng walking in on him and the Turk trembling beneath him as he fucked him and the sound Tseng might make when he came, his name on the Turk’s lips. 

Leaning his forehead against the shower wall, Rufus gritted his teeth as his climax rolled over him with unexpected intensity, barely able to stifle the choked groan. There was only so much the walls would keep in or out after all, running water or no. 

Several moments later, he was still leaning against the smooth tiles, trying to catch his breath. 

The images of Tseng wouldn’t go away. 

_Shit._

Was he in trouble?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ho, boy. I guess this is getting a second chapter. 
> 
> I enjoy writing Rufus too much. Somebody help. xD

“Looks riveting.” 

Rufus leaned over Tseng’s shoulder, who sat at the desk in the office of the villa. A room Rufus hadn’t set a foot in since he'd arrived several months ago. What would have been the point? He’d been removed from all offices and any and all of his rights had been revoked after the Avalanche incident. Living in the Shinra Villa in Costa de Sol for free was the only thing his father had granted him. 

The realisation still grated when he thought about it. 

“I'm reviewing the security protocols of the last months, sir.” Tseng said without looking up. 

“I'm still here, so everything should be in order.” Rufus chuckled, studying the Turks‘ immaculately tied back hair. He was still a little rattled after his shower this morning but that wouldn’t stop him for unnerving Tseng a little. 

“Your father just wants to ensure your safety, sir.” 

Rufus scoffed. “My continued idleness and confinement, you mean.” 

At this Tseng finally looked up and glanced over his shoulder. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes, perhaps he hadn’t expected Rufus to be this close. “The President considers ending your house arrest.” And after a moment, “Sir.” 

Rufus raised his eyebrows. “Is he now? When?”

A small smile tugged at Tseng’s lips. “Once I report back to him, upon my return to HQ. Depending on the contents of said report, of course. Sir.”

Return to Midgar. How nice that sounded. He never would’ve thought he’d miss that hell hole of a city but now that it was glaring sunshine and the screams of seagulls day in day out, he couldn’t think of anything better than the dirty and dark sprawl of that Leviathan of a city. 

“So you’re my probation officer now,” Rufus drawled, straightening back up. 

Tseng coughed. “I wouldn’t quite put it that way, sir.”

“Except it’s true.” Pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants, Rufus couldn’t help his smirk. “So what do I have to do to get your seal of approval?”

Tseng frowned at the paperwork. 

“I’ve been cooped up here for months. I’m quite literally prepared to do anything.” His smirk widened a little at Tseng’s obvious discomfort. 

What was he doing? Some harmless flirting was fine but he found himself contemplating what going through with it would be like and that was… not an option. 

Tseng stood up. “You misunderstood. I simply have to report back to the President on the goings-on, since you haven’t left Costa del Sol and it doesn’t look like anything of note has happened during your time here-”

“You can say that again.”

“A simply report that all is in order and that you’re ready to return to the fold should suffice, sir.”

“And is he expecting me to make a contrite face upon my return and beg him for forgiveness?” Rufus couldn’t quite keep the contempt from his voice. There was a lot he’d do to end this bloody farce but apologising to his father simply wasn’t one of those things. 

Tseng frowned again. “If he does, he hasn’t mentioned it to me, sir.”

“Well, great. Because I wouldn’t do it.” Rufus walked over to the window and scowled at the immaculate garden and the perfect weather. He hated it. He hated having been put under ‘house arrest’ like a child who’d stayed out past curfew. He hated that his father could just take everything away and he was powerless to do anything about it. 

Hell, at this moment he wasn’t even in the damn will. 

Tseng stepped up to the window next to him, hands folded behind his back. “You have conspired against the President with the eco-terrorists Avalanche,” he pointed out unnecessarily. “He knows that it was your goal to kill him, sir.” 

“So? I’d do it again, given the chance,” he spat, then took a deep breath and shook his head as if to clear it. 

“The President couldn’t let that got unpunished and of all the things he could’ve done, this house arrest was-”

Gritting his teeth, Rufus rounded on Tseng. “So, I should be _grateful_ , is that it? I should throw myself at my father’s feet and _thank_ him for his lenience and generosity?” 

Tseng opened his mouth, thought better of it and close it again, remaining silent. 

“My father ordered your execution. Do you remember that at all?”

Tseng stiffened. “I do. Sir.”

“And it wasn’t my father who called that execution off.” Rufus knew he was being unreasonably vindictive, that a lot of this was all the pent-up frustration that had accumulated over the months of confinement and that it was really directed at his father. Still… 

Tseng should’ve just kept his damn mouth shut about his father’s supposed benevolence. 

“My apologies,” Tseng said mechanically. “Sir.”

Running a hand through his hair, Rufus let out an annoyed huff. “Forget it. Leave me.”

“As you say, sir.” Tseng bowed stiffly and made to leave when Rufus called after him.

“Wait.” Rufus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t go.”

“Sir?”

“I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.” The ‘I’m sorry’ hung in the air but he wasn’t prepared to say more than he already had. 

“Sir, there’s not need-”

Rufus stopped him with a wave of his hand. “I think, I decide for what there is and isn’t a need.”

“Of course, sir.”

“You don’t need to tag that on to the end of every sentence, you know.” He joined Tseng by the door. 

“It’s protocol, sir.” 

Rufus was relieved to note that despite Tseng’s serious demeanour, he didn’t look as pinched anymore as before. “Ah yeah, I forgot you were a stickler for that. Let’s go for a walk. If you’re with me, I’m assuming the other guard dogs won’t have to be as well?”

“No, sir. The Turk guard dog will suffice.” 

Rufus chuckled. “I didn’t know you had a sense of humour.”

They descended the stairs to the landing, Tseng trailing after him. 

“On occasion, sir.”

Rufus smiled. He remembered that they’d gotten along quite well in the past before the whole Avalanche thing had blown up in his face. Though Tseng seemed to take after his mentor and former leader of the Turks Veld, he was now one of the few younger men in a high position at Shinra. However, since he had been stripped of all his powers, Heidegger would be the director in charge of the Turks once more. After the events in Junon and Heidegger’s general contempt for ‘spy work’ that couldn’t be easy. 

“If you’ll give me a moment, sir.”

Rufus halted at the door and turned around, watching as Tseng took off his suit jacket and fastidiously placed it on one of the coat hangers on the coat rack before rolling up his sleeves. The look suited him, Rufus thought. If he wouldn’t always wear that serious expression, he probably wouldn’t scare all the women away but then again, Rufus knew nothing of the Turk's private life. 

Not that the Turks usually had one of those. 

“There’s no air-conditioning outside,” Tseng said as if needing to justify taking his jacket off. 

Rufus himself was wearing a short-sleeved white shirt with the top buttons undone and cream coloured flannel pants. Anything darker or thicker would literally kill him the moment he set foot outside the villa. He grabbed his – well one of his – sunglasses from the dresser by the door. “Ready?”

Tseng nodded. 

“You don’t have sunglasses?”

“It’s alright, sir.”

Rufus shrugged. “I have plenty. There should be something that suits you.”

“Really, there is-”

Rufus shouted for Betty, who rounded the corner only a few seconds later, curtsying deeply. She was one of the few maids he didn’t mind so much because she was quick and efficient and quiet about it. “You know the box with my sunglasses?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Bring it down.”

“Right away, sir.” She hurried away up the stairs, her long skirt rustling. It hardly took a minute for her to return with a large box. At Rufus’ gesture, she put it down on the table in the landing, opening the lid and taking a step back. 

“Choose whichever you want. Though I think the dark grey, slightly tinted once would suit you.”

Tseng looked at the case for a moment before choosing a dark blue, metallic frame with slightly tinted glass. 

Rufus chuckled. “That’s even better. Let’s go.” He gestured for Betty to take the box back upstairs as they left the house. 

The villa was on the outskirts of Costa del Sol due to the sprawling estate that surrounded it. Most of the other houses in the area were lavish and decadent, only not as ostentatious as the Shinra Villa, naturally. The hills at one end of the estate were vineyards. The neighbourhood was exclusive to say the least. 

They took a path up to the vineyards. 

“When are you leaving?” 

“Once I’ve reviewed all the necessary paperwork and checked with all the security personnel. My estimate would be in a day or two.” Tseng had clasped his hands behind his back again, walking a few steps behind Rufus. 

“Stop trailing behind me like some servant.” Rufus looked up at the hills. 

One or two days. What a pity. 

Tseng caught up with him. 

Had he really never noticed how good-looking the Turk was? It was hard to believe. Rufus shook himself. “How are things with Heidegger lording over you?”

Tseng made a non-committal noise. “He mostly leaves us alone, sir.”

“How much of my former powers is my father planning to restore to me?” 

“There’s no official consent as of yet, sir. Some of the directors are opposed to-” 

“Heidegger, I bet. Palmer is too stupid to oppose anything and Scarlet and I always got along just splendidly.” Rufus chuckled. She was just the kind of bitch he could appreciate. “So? Which powers?”

“Like I said-”

Rufus threw him a look. “Come now. You know more than the official nonsense.” 

“He’s planning to name you vice-president and amend the will in your favour once more, sir,” Tseng said quietly, his face betraying no emotion. 

Huh, who would’ve thought. Maybe the old man had a bit of a soft spot for him after all. Not that that would change anything. “I want control over the Turks back.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged, sir.” 

“Any way you can justify staying a little longer?” 

Tseng stopped for a moment before resuming his pace. “If you have need of me, it can be arranged. I have no immediate duties to return to, sir.” 

Rufus exhaled slowly, eyes raised to the top of the hills, the sun making the air shimmer. 

_What am I doing?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rufus is a very angry patient.

“Look who it is, the man of the hour.” Rufus smiled before a cough cut him short. “Why don’t you ask him, Betty?”

Tseng had entered the room with a frown tugging at his brows just as Betty hurried past him with a bright red face, closing the door behind herself.

“Betty seems to have taken a shine to you.” He leaned against the bed’s headrest with a sigh, his vision going in and out a little as the fever rose. If there was something he hated, it was getting sick. He hated it with his whole being and he would’ve taken more medication if the damn useless doctor hadn’t forbidden it.

Who was he to deny Rufus Shinra something?

“How are you feeling?”

Rufus waved the question away in irritation. “It’s nothing but everyone seems intend on fussing.”

Tseng’s frown deepened. “The doctor is concerned by how high your fever is, sir.”

“Yes, well… doctors are always fretting about one thing or another.” If he could, he would get up and just ignore everyone else’s advice. But the annoying fact of the matter was, that he could barely sit up, let alone stand.

“I will inform the President that-”

“My father doesn’t give shit, alright,” he spat, before taking a deep breath, his hands clenching against the blanket. “Talk to the doctor. He’s been all but useless. I’m not feeling even remotely better.”

“You should lie down, sir. You need rest, not more pills.” Tseng had approached the bed. “Even someone like Rufus Shinra gets ill sometimes.”

Rufus scowled at his smart remark for a moment but then couldn’t help the chuckle. “Not interested in Betty then?”

“I- No. And I don’t think it would be appropriate.”

“Reno never had any such compunctions,” Rufus pointed out with a smirk.

Tseng shrugged and sat down in the armchair by the bed. “He can sleep with whoever he wishes as long as he keeps his mouth shut while he does. Sir.”

“Harsh,” Rufus laughed softly, which maybe sounded a bit like a wheeze.

"Sir, you should lie down and try to get some sleep."

Sleep was the last thing he needed. He might be exhausted and feeling godawful but nothing would be worse than the fever dreams. His stomach clenched at the thought.

Rufus jumped at the hand on his forehead and stared at Tseng.

"Since when has your temperature risen?"

The touch was cool and pleasant and Rufus wished it would've lasted longer the second Tseng took his hand away. "This morning, I think. Ask the doctor, he’s the one who has to keep track."

Talking became harder and harder as he struggled to keep his breathing even.

"I did, just wanted to check, sir."

Rufus grimaced. "Trusting me over the doctors?"

Tseng shrugged and something about the gesture and the fact that Tseng had even thought to ask him made his chest hurt.

He'd had these sort of fevers a lot as a child and remembered his nannies and maids, his father had never bothered to take time out of his "busy schedule", always consulting the doctors and nurses on what was wrong with 'the boy'. Nobody had ever bothered to ask him.

Rufus didn't remember falling asleep but when he came to, he wasn't sitting propped up against the headboard anymore. It took an inordinately long amount of time for him to push the blanket down to his waist and the process left him breathless and sweaty.

Looking up at the ceiling, he frowned at how strange the room looked. Too bright and too saturated, the shape of all the furniture looked oddly insubstantial too.

There were voices in the hallway, the door to his room stood open a crack.

He could only make out bits and pieces. 

“… the fever is not going down…”

“Medical history…”

“… danger of dehydration… IV drip…”

_Hell no._

Rufus tried to raise his hand to push the hair from his forehead but only managed to get it up to his stomach before the last of his strength deserted him. Gods, he was feeling like shit. His mouth was parched and his lips chapped and the headache that had started up with the fever was blinding. 

He noticed somebody entering the room and standing by his bedside but everything was so blurry, he couldn’t tell who it was. 

At some point he drifted off again. 

When he woke up next, he thought he was going to be sick the way his stomach turned but the feeling thankfully passed after a few minutes of him vehemently trying to push his panic down. It was probably the nightmares that had brought on the nausea but by some stroke of luck, he didn’t remember any of his dreams. 

There was no IV drip next to his bed yet. 

This time he managed to push the hair out of his face though his hand was trembling and he was drenched in sweat. Grimacing, Rufus wondered if he would be able to get up to take a shower. That hope was squashed the moment he tried to sit up and failed spectacularly. 

Somebody stepped into the room and this time Rufus recognized it to be Tseng which made no sense. He stared at the man as he came to stand next to his bed. 

“What are you still doing here?” 

Ah, so he could speak again, though the words came out slurred. 

Tseng frowned, which seemed to be his default expression these days. “I requested the extension of my stay which the President granted, sir.”

His father, the last person he wanted to hear about. If the old man ever got sick, Rufus would make sure to visit, if only to gloat over him wasting away. Bastard. 

It took a moment before the meaning of what Tseng had said sunk in. 

“Why? It’s a waste of your time… Not going to do anything my father might disapprove of in this state.” Why was it such a struggle to get each word out? _Gods, so annoying._

Another frown. Rufus would’ve laughed if he weren’t so exhausted.

“I’ll raise you up a little, so you can drink something, sir.”

Sir. Somebody should teach that man to drop the damn protocol. It was just ridiculous. 

Rufus winced at the stab in his temples when Tseng slid a hand under his head and lifted him up slightly. It was the most delicious water he’d ever had in his entire life, only Tseng took the glass away entirely too soon. 

“The doctor recommended-“

_Fuck him._

He didn’t listen to the rest of what Tseng said as anger welled up inside of him again. How long had he been bedridden? Were they even giving him any medication? He certainly hadn’t started feeling better. Even getting angry was exhausting. 

Rufus closed his eyes. Only to snap them back open a second later. 

“No IV. If they try, you have to stop them.”

Oh great, another frown. “Sir, you’ve been unconscious and asleep a lot. If this continues, you’ll suffer from dehydration and malnourishment-“

“I’m not going to repeat myself.” He hated IV drips, more than being sick. Well… maybe the same amount. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t have it. “They should give me something to stay awake then.”

Apparently Tseng was ignoring him. Instead of replying, he took a wet cloth from a basin of water on his nightstand and placed it on Rufus’ forehead. The sensation was beyond blissful. If only the cloth would stay cold for longer. 

A thought occurred to him. 

“Why are you doing all this? Where’s Betty or some damn nurse?” At least he could shout at them, well, maybe not Betty, but definitely the nurse. Shouting at Tseng for going out of his way to be helpful just… felt wrong. 

“I volunteered, sir.”

_That’s just stupid. You have better things to do._

But he was too tired to argue the point. 

The next time he woke, it was dark outside and the room was stiflingly hot. Rufus sat up with a groan before realising what he’d managed to do. The room tilted funnily and his throbbing headache disapproved greatly but he remained upright, struggling for air. 

He was determined to open the window. 

Maybe he could call someone to do it for him but he didn’t want to. He wanted everyone to leave him the hell alone. Well, maybe not Tseng. He still remembered how nice the man’s hand had felt on his forehead. 

Was Tseng back in Midgar now? How long had he been ill for? 

Rufus threw the blanket off or rather managed to push it to the side with considerable effort before moving to sit on the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge. It was sheer willpower that kept him from falling over. 

He noticed that the colours of the room were more muted now and the furniture had returned to its solid state. That was good, right? 

Maybe he could even make it to the bathroom, sit in the shower or something. He felt disgusting, sweaty and still too hot. 

There was a glass of water on his nightstand but he didn’t quite trust himself to hold onto it. 

_I can’t even lift a glass of water but I want to go to the bathroom. This is ridiculous._

Rufus didn’t know how long he sat on the edge of the bed without moving, trying to muster the strength to get to his feet. He would sit here until he could walk over to the window and then the bathroom. He would not crawl. 

The door opening made him jump and glance over his shoulder. 

For a moment, the figure simply stood in the doorway before they came hurrying over. 

It was Tseng. 

Rufus expected some disapproving comment but instead Tseng just stood next to him, saying nothing. Why was he feeling guilty? 

“I was going to open the window and go to the bathroom,” he said a little defiantly. 

Tseng raised an eyebrow. “Were you?”

“Yes.”

Tseng crossed his arms. “Go on then.”

He wasn’t going to stop him? Rufus looked at the other man suspiciously. “I just need a moment.”

“Okay.”

That moment turned into several minutes with Tseng just standing there, face neutral and apparently waiting for Rufus to get up. 

“Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Alright.”

Another minute passed and Rufus couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up inside of him. It sounded a little hoarse but at least the anger and frustration were gone for a moment. He buried his face in his hands. “Can you open the window?”

“Of course.” Without further comment, Tseng walked over to the window front and opened several of them, the cool night air that wafted into the room was a blessing. 

Tseng returned to his side. “I can help you to the bathroom, unless you want to do that by yourself too.”

“Stop being a smartass, I’m very ill.” 

“Oh, are you? I thought you were in denial about it.”

Rufus stared at the other man. The grating formality and the ‘sir’ at the end of every sentence was gone. Was he dreaming this? “I was… I am. I hate being sick.”

“I have yet to meet someone who enjoys it.”

How annoying that man was. 

Instead of waiting for a prompt from Rufus, Tseng bent down and carefully pulled one of Rufus’ arms over his shoulders before helping him to his feet. 

Gritting his teeth, Rufus was momentarily worried that his legs wouldn’t carry him. His knees were definitely trembling but he’d first die before he fell over in front of the Turk. 

“Are you alright?”

“Never been better.”

Tseng huffed. “Alright then.”

The way to the bathroom was at least several miles. It took them half an hour, maybe more or that was what it felt like to Rufus. Why couldn’t they walk faster? 

When they stood in the middle of the bathroom, Rufus realised that Tseng was waiting for him to say what he wanted to do. “Just sit me down in the shower.”

“And then what?”

“Turn the water on. Cold water.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I do.” Rufus was expecting Tseng to argue further but he didn’t. _What a pushover._

When Rufus sat on the shower floor, Tseng reached for the tap. “Are you sure?”

It somehow sounded like a trick question. 

“Yes,” Rufus said stubbornly. He knew what he was doing. He had a fever not brain damage. 

So Tseng turned the water on and stepped aside to avoid the spray. 

It felt fantastic. 

It was cold and he wasn’t as grimy and sweaty anymore. This had been a fantastic idea. After a few minutes, it just got a little cold. 

“Should I just leave you here then?”

“What? No. I will get pneumonia on top of everything else.”

“Those were my thoughts too but you were quite determined.” Tseng had his arms crossed again. 

And suddenly this whole idea didn’t seem as flawless anymore. Yes, he wasn’t feeling as feverish anymore or as gross but he was also drenched to the bone and his clothes were very wet. He would have to change. Someone would have to change him… 

“I can’t believe you just did what I told you,” Rufus muttered. 

Maybe he could change by himself. He’d make it work. Somehow. 

Tseng turned the water off. 

“I’m not lifting you up like that. You’re drenched.”

“I could order you.”

“You could try.”

Who was this person? And why was he putting up with it?

Tseng rolled the sleeves of his shirt up before crouching down. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“Sure.” He was not sounding sullen. 

“I’ll take your shirt off and give you a towel to dry off and then we’ll move on to your shorts. Where in the wardrobe can I find something for you to change into?”

Rufus didn’t like the idea but what else was he supposed to do? He got himself into this mess and apparently Tseng would have to get him out again. 

Was that why none of the nurses had ever done what he told them when he was sick as a child? He was still oddly grateful that Tseng had gone along with his stupid idea. 

“Left wardrobe bottom right.” 

Tseng returned a moment later with some fresh clothes before crouching back down. 

“Ready?”

“Sure.”

By the time he had dried his upper half, he was ready to take another shower but he was also shivering a little. Suddenly his bed started to look like the most comfortable place on the planet. 

He still felt so wretched that he was hardly embarrassed by Tseng undressing him. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t really care whether Tseng saw him naked or not, what was decidedly more embarrassing was his sheer inability to do the smallest things. 

“So what’s the doctor’s verdict? How long do I have?”

Tseng pursed his lips. “Your fever has been going down since this afternoon. They still wanted to attach the IV drip because you slept so much. I… told them not to.”

“Why are you being so damn helpful?” The words were out before he could really think about them. “And don’t say this is your job. It really isn’t.”

Tseng hoisted him up slowly and they made their way back to his bed. Another laborious journey. 

Rufus sat on the edge of the bed, trying to catch his breath while Tseng cleaned up after them. Putting away the wet clothes and towels before returning with another towel and holding it out to him. 

“For your hair. I can do it or do you want to do it yourself?”

“No, you do it.” He was so tired. Closing his eyes, he let Tseng dry his wet hair who was being very gentle about the whole thing. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Tseng sighed. “I had a look at your medical history. There were a lot of notes from nurses and doctors that you weren’t an… easy patient.”

Rufus scoffed.

“Because of that and your high fever they considered putting you under and just using an IV drip to sustain you until there were signs of improvement.”

Wow. He would’ve been angry if he didn’t feel so numb. Why was he surprised? Was he surprised? 

“They would’ve had to get your consent for such a procedure, of course, but… it looked like they were considering approaching the President about it-“

“Who would’ve given his consent.”

Tseng didn’t comment. 

There was a moment of silence as Tseng finished drying his hair. 

“Their approach seemed rather harsh, so I volunteered to look after you. I might’ve exaggerated the side effects of the doctor’s procedure to the President.” Tseng shrugged. “He approved. At least as long as it wouldn’t detain me for more than a week.”

Rufus didn’t know what to say. 

It made no sense for Tseng to go out of his way like this. Even if the doctor would’ve gotten his procedure approved. What did Tseng care? 

“You should drink something before going back to sleep. Maybe eat if you can.”

He wasn’t hungry but he nodded anyway. With everything Tseng had done for him and still did, he couldn’t bring himself to be difficult about accepting help, no matter how much it still bothered him and how much he hated being sick. 

“I’ll get you something to eat then. Soup should be the most palatable. Anything you don’t like?” 

“Caraway.” 

Once Tseng had left, Rufus pushed his pillow against the headboard and sat back, pulling the blanket up. The whole process seemed to take forever but he was determined to do something by himself. 

He knew the doctors had done exactly what they had planned to do this time before when he was much younger. He’d woken after days of being in a medically induced coma, confused and afraid because nobody had told him a damn thing. It was hard to believe that they were still trying to pull the same shit now that he was twenty-seven. 

He would have some paperwork prepared in the event that he fell ill again so that this sort of thing would never happen again. If another doctor tried, he’d be very sorry indeed. 

Tseng returned with a bowl of soup. 

It still didn’t sit right with Rufus that the Turk was going through all this trouble. He wasn’t a babysitter. Maybe he should just be grateful, and he was, but it still bothered him. 

After the bathroom ordeal Rufus realised he would not be able to eat alone, at least not without considerable effort and the risk of spilling half the soup down his shirt. He suddenly felt even less hungry than before. 

But the thought of the IV drip made him swallow his pride. 

It didn’t taste bad, despite how little he could taste. His stomach just wasn’t used to food after probably days of only drinking water. It was rebelling after the first spoonful but Tseng seemed to have anticipated that possibility. 

The man had the patience of a saint. 

“You’re not sitting here day and night, I hope.” 

“No. Betty takes over sometimes. I’ve given her instructions to first come to me if something is wrong. So that I can be there in case the doctor decides to do something unauthorised.” 

“You make it sound so grim. The doctor might be an asshole but he’s not trying to kill me.”

Tseng shrugged. “It’s still my job to ensure your safety and from what I’ve heard, I wasn’t impressed by the doctor’s work ethics.”

“I can’t eat anymore.” 

Tseng nodded. “Alright. That was more than I expected you’d manage.”

Rufus was a little irritated by how pleased he felt at Tseng’s words. Like some toddler who was praised for shitting in the training potty for the first time. 

He really was one angry patient. 

Rufus reached for Tseng’s arm and got a hold of his shirt sleeve. He was determinedly looking at the Turk’s hand. “Could you stay?”

“Sure. I’ll just take this back to the kitchen.”

The next time Rufus woke, it was dawning but the air outside was still fresh. It made the room feel less like a death ward and more like some place where people still recovered. 

His eyes fell on Tseng who had fallen asleep in the armchair. 

_He came back._

Tseng had his head propped up on one hand, though Rufus wasn’t sure how someone actually managed to hold that position after falling asleep. He looked exhausted but also peaceful? Rufus knew he was staring but he couldn’t help himself. 

Tseng could easily have lied to him or even gone to his own room after discovering that Rufus had fallen asleep but he hadn’t. He struggled to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat and turned his head back to the window front. 

The fever had gone down some more and for the first time in days his headache was just a dull pain compared to the drill that had been working at his temples before. 

He wondered if he’d hate being ill less if his father had ever bothered to see him when he had been sick as a child. Well, the old man had shown up once and after that Rufus had wished he never would again. He’d been nine back then. His father had shouted at the nurses and doctors how incompetent and useless they were, burning his money without results, while Rufus thought the loud voices would split his head in half. 

And afterwards his father had stood by his bedside with a disgusted look on his face. 

/You’re too weak. Just look at yourself. It’s pitiful./

He had no words for how much he hated his father. 

When Tseng stirred in the armchair, Rufus realised he’d been clutching the blanket and grinding his teeth. He tried to push the memory of his father away. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

Tseng ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. “Good. You look better too.”

Rufus gave a lopsided smile. “I doubt that but I’ll take the compliment. Beggars can’t be choosers.” 

Tseng chuckled. “Do you even know what that word means?”

“What word?”

“Beggar.”

Rufus scoffed. “Shut up.”

Tseng’s smile was the best thing he’d seen in days.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only excuse for this chapter is that there were some discussions on Rufus with a cane and I liked that image. xD 
> 
> The next chapter will probably feature the cane again because there hasn't been much action with it. This doesn't sound ominous or suggestive at all, haha. 
> 
> Many thanks to **shadowwaker** and **HardNoctLife** for betaing this chapter! Punctuation just kills me, you saved me! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy. :)

Rufus watched his father while trying very hard not to look irritated or bored as the old man droned on about Shinra’s legacy and how this was an important day for the company, like he actually meant any of that.

What a load of bullshit it was.

The only upside to this whole spectacle was that not only had his house arrest ended, his father really was naming him vice president and giving him back all of his previous powers and then some. He wondered if there was a reason to all of this or if his father was just suddenly feeling sentimental, which Rufus very much doubted.

But what did they say about the gift horse and its mouth? If he was honest, he didn’t really care why his father seemed to have forgiven him. The paperwork for the appointment was in order; he’d let Tseng have a look at it to make sure there weren’t any unexpected incidental provisions, in case Rufus didn’t behave to his father’s liking.

That, and Heidegger’s face growing ever more purple, was enough to brighten Rufus’ day.

Once his father’s monologue ended, which had taken more than two minutes solely because one of Shinra’s television crews had recorded the whole thing, the formality of the event broke up and the cameras were packed up.

Rufus turned around when Scarlet approached him.

“Well, I must say, Rufus, I wouldn’t have thought a cane could make a man look so… appealing.” She gave him a seductive smile.

He smiled back at her. Scarlet could be a real bitch but it was also the reason why he respected her, at least occasionally. “Why, thank you. It has an integrated gun too.”

Scarlet’s smile grew wider and positively predatory. “Does it now?” To the room at large she said, “You see, I knew this appointment was a good idea. At last I’ll have something nice to look at during our board meetings.” Turning back to Rufus, she stage-whispered, “Why don’t you come see me later in my apartment?”

Rufus laughed. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She sauntered off with another laugh. That woman was like a black widow, eating her mate after the act if she hadn’t already done so during it. It made her dangerous but predictable.

“Mr. Vice President, my congratulations on the appointment.” Reeve had stepped up to him.

“Thank you.” Rufus studied him for a moment.

Reeve had always been the odd one out. The man was helpful and seemed genuinely friendly, he even seemed to care about Midgar’s citizens and all that rolled into one really made Rufus wonder how on the planet the man had managed to hold onto his director’s position for so long, considering the people he had to contend with, his father included.

“How are you?” Reeve’s eyes strayed to the cane.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just temporarily impaired.” Rufus shrugged. “Any idea why my father suddenly changed his mind?”

Reeve glanced at the President who stood in front of his desk with Heidegger and Scarlet. “I think he missed you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all.” Reeve shook his head. “He would never admit to it, but I think he realised that you’re the only one he’s got and, well, despite appearances, he did always have a soft spot for you.”

Rufus was frowning at him. “You really are serious. He was literally the worst father a son could have.”

Reeve smiled sympathetically. “Oh, you’ll hear no argument from me there. I wasn’t asking for some reconciliation between the two of you, I think that moment passed quite some time ago. But, nevertheless, the President does love you, in his own, questionable, way.”

“How odd.” Rufus chuckled.

The rest of the event passed without anything of note happening and Rufus slowly walked towards his father once all of the directors had been dismissed.

The tap of the cane seemed to echo unusually loud as he made his way to the window front behind the President’s desk, smiling at his father’s irritated glance.

“The cane makes you look like a cripple.”

Rufus gave him a pleasant smile. “I could shoot you with it. I know you only have that ridiculous golden gun in your desk. Let’s find out who’s faster.”

His father’s face darkened. “Had I known, I would’ve rescheduled your appointment.”

 _And that’s exactly why you weren’t told_ , Rufus thought, keeping his temper in check. After being bedridden for almost two weeks, one of which he’d mostly spent in and out of consciousness, his options had been a wheelchair, a cane, or postponing his appointment.

Though the doctor had warned him that even with the cane he wouldn’t be able to walk for a prolonged period of time. If truth be told, Rufus found standing about more unpleasant than walking and if this pointless talk with his father could be wrapped up sooner rather than later, he really wouldn’t mind.

But there was still one thing that needed sorting out.

“I want the Turks back.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“And?”

“I’m still of a mind to disband them.”

 _You mean kill them._ “Well, I’m not in favour and seeing as I’m now vice president, I think I have a say in the matter.”

Both of them glanced at the double winged door to the President’s office when it opened quietly and Tseng stepped into the room. Rufus gestured for him to come closer.

Stopping a respectful distance away from either of them, Tseng bowed slightly. “Mr. President, Vice President.”

Rufus couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. He liked his new title already.

“My son seems a little partial to you and your men. I can’t say I share the sentiment. But he’s requested sole ‘ownership’, as he likes to call it, of the Turks. Will this be a problem?”

His father didn’t even try to make it sound like Tseng’s opinion actually mattered.

Tseng kept his gaze lowered. “Of course not, sir.”

“Good. Let me make one thing very clear, if there is even so much as a whiff of a misstep by you or any of your men, and I don’t care if they were acting under orders or not. My son will not be able to shield you a second time.”

Tseng bowed his head. “I understand, sir.”

“I hope you do.”

Rufus sighed. “Leave the poor man alone, would you? If I remember correctly, it was your man Verdot who, after bullying you into reinstating him as the Turks’ leader, stabbed Shinra in the back, while Tseng sorted that nasty little problem out for us.” He knew he had to tread carefully on the issue of the Turks but listening to his father figuratively winch up the guillotine’s blade with such righteousness, just irritated him too much to keep his mouth shut.

The look his father threw him was murderous.

He brushed it away with the wave of a hand. “At any rate, I’ll make sure Tseng behaves himself. We’ll all be on our best behaviour, father. As always.” He smiled sweetly.

The President didn’t seem convinced even for a second but made no further attempt to argue the point which was just as well. “Leave me. I can’t stand looking at that cane any longer.”

Rufus chuckled. “I think I actually quite like it. Might even continue using it once I’m better.”

“I had hoped that insolence of yours would’ve been tempered after some introspection.”

Rufus bit back a snort. “Well, what can I say? It pains me to hear that I continue to disappoint you, father.”

“Get out.”

“Oh, at once.” Rufus laughed softly as he and Tseng left the President’s office.

Walking was becoming a bit of a pain and once the door closed behind them Rufus stopped and took a breath. “I forgot how much I hated seeing the old bastard. No, scratch that. I really didn’t.”

Tseng hovered by his elbow. “Sir, you’re looking pale. You should return to your apartment.”

Rufus shook his head. “Later. First I want to have a look at the Turks’ offices. You’re still down in that basement, aren’t you?”

“Floor B3, yes.”

Rufus scoffed. “If you’re all Heidegger’s division, why is Soldier getting a whole floor with a view and you’re banished to the basement?”

“It really doesn’t matter, sir.”

“Well, you would say that. Let’s go.”

Rufus leaned against the elevator wall with a sigh. He was looking forward to his bed. His gaze trailed to Tseng who stood with his arms folded behind his back, and up to the little camera in the elevator’s corner. “Is this thing on?”

Tseng looked up and shook his head. “No, all the elevator cameras have been malfunctioning during the last few days. The tech department is looking into it. Sir.”

Rufus smiled a little at the tacked on ‘sir’. He’d noticed Tseng struggling to remember the proper form of address from time to time and it amused him rather than irritated him. The smile vanished from his lips when he said, “I know you didn’t kill Verdot. Or his daughter.”

If the change in topic had been unexpected, Tseng didn’t show it. “Sir?”

“I had a feeling since that day that something was off. And I can’t say your double dealings didn’t irritate me but if I’m honest, I don’t really care.” He took a step towards Tseng as the elevator doors opened. Up close he thought he saw some apprehension in Tseng’s eyes. “Don’t do it again though. I am sticking my neck out for you and I like it attached to my shoulders.”

Tseng met his eyes for a moment before averting them and nodding. “Of course, sir.”

Reaching the Turks’ main office took longer than Rufus had anticipated, his grip on the cane growing more strained by the second and he noticed Tseng walking a little closer than absolutely necessary, no doubt worried that he might fall over.

“Sir, I could-“

“Don’t even think about it.” Rufus chuckled. “How much further is it though?”

“It’s at the end of the corridor.”

“It would be.” It had been too long since he’d last been down here.

Reno and Rude were in the office and jumped to their feet when they entered.

“Yo, boss!” Reno looked at Tseng as if waiting for some confirmation and Tseng nodded. “Glad to have you back. Er…” He noticed Rufus’ cane. “You wanna take a seat?”

Rufus gave a strained smile. “Sure.”

He had them give him a rundown on all the important dealings of the past two years during his house arrest, as well as changes to administration and personnel. The Turks were down to a worryingly low number. It was a lot less exhausting to listen to all this while sitting down.

“Are there any promising candidates?” He saw Tseng nod.

“There’s Elena. Her sister used to be with us and she’s trained at the military academy. She has an interview next week.”

“Well, if she makes it. Let me know.” Rufus leafed through a few mission reports. “Reno’s second in command?”

“Yup.”

He noticed Tseng rolling his eyes in exasperation and Reno tagged on a “boss.”

“Alright.” Snapping the file closed, Rufus leaned forward, both hands resting on his cane. “Tseng’ll handle communications with me. If he’s not around, that’ll be your duty, Reno. My old man is still salty about two years ago, so try not to step on his toes too hard. If Heidegger or any other of the directors gives you trouble, you come to me. You don’t deal with it yourself. The same goes in case anybody other than my father is trying to give you orders. You run them by me before lifting a finger. If you come across anything that can’t show up in your reports, I want to know about it. I’m assuming Tseng will keep me posted about these things.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Any questions?”

“So, you’re really back.” Reno grinned.

Chuckling, Rufus tapped his cane. “Well, with some minor setbacks but yes.” Towards Tseng he said, “Did you manage to get Betty transferred to HQ?“

Tseng nodded. “It has been arranged, sir. She should be arriving within the week.”

“Who’s Betty?” Reno leaned his hip against the desk, his grin only growing.

“My maid.”

“Caught your eye, did she?”

“Reno.” Tseng pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What? Boss can always pull rank and shut me up if he doesn’t want to answer.”

Rufus laughed. “No, she didn’t catch my eye. She’s reliable and knows how to keep her mouth shut. You know, I’m not my father. I don’t dally with employees.” 

“Yeah,” Reno snickered. “No unexpected pregnancies left right and center.”

“Aren’t you two supposed to be on your way to Junon?” Tseng said with some emphasis. 

“Oh, shit. Yeah.” Reno pushed off the table and glanced at his watch. “Chopper should be waiting. Rude, you ready?”

“Have been for the past ten minutes while you were bandying words.”

Reno scoffed. “Whatever. Gotta catch up with the boss first. Anyway, we’ll be off. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Rude muttered something under his breath that had Reno shove him out of the door. Their bickering only stopped once the door slid back shut. 

“They-" Tseng began.

“Haven’t changed.” Rufus finished. “As long as they know how to do their job.”

“They do.”

“Good.” Rufus looked around the room. “This place is so bleak. I don’t know how you can stand it.”

“You get used to it. Sir.”

Rufus huffed. “I don’t know about that.”

“I apologise for Reno-”

“Don’t. I’m pretty sure everyone at HQ will think the same of Betty as Reno did.” He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure the thought has crossed your mind too.”

Tseng frowned. “I’m aware that you don’t engage in that way with any subordinates. So-”

“But you think I’d make an exception?”

He was certainly contemplating making one if he had even an inkling if Tseng would be up for it. But the Turk was a hard nut to crack. Tseng had gone out of his way to look after him when he’d been ill but apart from a few rare moments the Turk was nothing if not proper and respectful.

“I couldn’t say, sir.”

Rufus made to rise but before he even managed to make a real effort, Tseng was by his side, hand under his elbow and helping him up. He probably could’ve stood by himself but he didn’t stop Tseng.

“I’ll turn in for today. Come to my office tomorrow and we’ll discuss the schedule for the coming weeks.”

Tseng nodded. “Will you be able to get back to your apartment alone, sir?”

Rufus threw him an amused look. “I’m not decrepit yet, you know. But feel free to tag along. I’ll be slow and it’ll be boring but I don’t mind company along the way.” He pretended not to see the small smile tugging at the corners of Tseng’s lips.

“If you wish.”

Sir. But he never said it.


End file.
